Up Against My Heart
by Moonchild10
Summary: Howl learns that a heart is a heavy burden, Sophie discovers that SAVING Howl's heart was the simple part, and Calcifer becomes aware that he is not content with mere freedom. Everyone in Ingary knows that this is the perfect recipe for disaster.
1. In Which Sophie Makes Two Discoveries

**Chapter One:  
In Which Sophie Makes Two Discoveries and A Mess**

On the morning after the Witch was destroyed, Sophie made two odd discoveries. The first was that when she exited the castle to collect flowers for the day, she caught sight of Calcifer-- who she had not expected to see-- zipping through the air around the bright, fragrant blossoms. When he caught sight of her, his body flared navy blue with embarrassment and he sat still, hovering in the air and raising his emerald green eyebrows as if he was waiting for her to judge him for his merrymaking. The second was that Howl-- who she had fully expected to see in the gardens-- was strangely absent.

"Calcifer, where is Howl?" she asked him, making her way toward a bush of lilies. Michael, who had been lagging slightly behind, made an appearance, hurrying to make up for lost time with his floating tub hovering somewhere behind his ear.

Calcifer made a motion that Sophie was sure, had he had shoulders, would have been a shrug. "Don't know," he admitted. "The contract is broken, so it's not my job to keep tabs on crazy wizards," but he said this warmly, and Sophie knew he didn't really mean it. "But I do know he left sometime before I woke up this morning, and he went through the Market Chipping door… it was orange side down when I first saw it."

"I went to Market Chipping after he left this morning…" Michael said, rather sheepishly, and as his cheeks tinted a faint pink, it was clear he had been to see Martha. "But he was already gone when I got up, and I don't remember what color was down. I was so excited to see Let-- I mean Martha, that I didn't really pay attention."

Sophie, for reasons she could not quite place, was disturbed by this. "It can't be past eight o' clock," she said as she reached for the lilies. The sound of their stems breaking was crisp in the damp morning air. "Perhaps our Howl has decided to stop being lazy for once…" she felt much less annoyance than her voice let on, and as she let the lilies tumble into Michael's bucket and reached for more, she nibbled nervously at her bottom lip. She had anticipated enjoying her first morning in ages as a young woman again, and had not exactly counted on Howl fouling it up by marking her worry. It wasn't often he disappeared at the crack of dawn. She could not recall him ever being gone before she woke up in the past.

_"The way he held my hands last night, you'd think he never wanted to let go…" _she thought, growing more irritated by the moment as she finished with the lilies and moved on to a lush clump of geraniums. _"And still he feels the need to rush off first thing in the morning without even a hello? This is so like him. Why did I think things would change between us? It's the same as it's always been; he doesn't see fit to tell me anything!"_

Michael gave a little gasp of worry and had to physically grip the edge of his tub with his fists to keep water from sloshing over as Sophie deposited the geraniums quite forcefully into it. "Steady there!" he called uselessly to the tub. Calcifer gave a small chuckle at the teenager's misfortune. Sophie was on a warpath now, and was none too tender with the roses she plunked into the water next, hissing a word even Martha didn't know under her breath as the water splashed her dress and loose strands of red-gold hair, which she hadn't bothered to put up.

"I need to calm down…" she muttered aloud, and ignored Calcifer's snort of agreement. _"I'm just blowing things out of proportion. After all, he doesn't need to check with me every time he leaves. Just let it go, Sophie. Don't get yourself all worked up because of that flighty wizard!"_ and she promptly made herself (almost) forget about him. There were more important matters to attend to, after all. She arranged the armloads of newly collected flowers-- marigolds, lilies, roses, geraniums, lilacs, fragrant tuberose, lacy forget-me-not, and gaudy hibiscus-- into careful bouquets in the workroom and then settled them onto the shelves and countertops in the shop front.

Sophie couldn't help but marvel at how much easier it was to get work done now that she was eighteen rather than ninety. She fairly flew around the room, dedicating her energy to creating a brilliant display. The day after Midsummer Day, there were bound to be girls who did not find the suitor of their dreams coming in to buy comfort flowers, or successful suitors who wanted to buy flowers for their new sweethearts. In what was sure to be a busy day, the shop had to look as vibrant as ever.

"Slow down!" Michael told her in alarm as he moved in with a basket filled with arrangements in vases, ducking quickly to avoid behind hit in the face by Sophie's arm. "You're going to put someone's eye out!" Calcifer, who was floating hidden behind Michael to avoid being seen by any early customers, muttered in what sounded like agreement. Despite Sophie's state the previous day, now it was Michael who sounded like an old woman. Sophie giggled slightly in spite of herself.

"You seem happy," Calcifer said, peeking out from behind the feathery brown strands of Michael's hair. "I guess it's true what they say about a woman in love."

"What!?" Sophie whirled around and dropped the bouquet she was holding, vase and all. Michael dove forward and managed to catch it before it hit the floor. He gave a small whoop of excitement. She could feel her cheeks flush in spite of herself. "Calcifer, don't be silly! Why would you think I was in love with Howl?"

"No one said anything about Howl," Calcifer sounded smug, and Sophie grumbled, taking the vase from Michael with a small mutter of thanks and placing it safely on the front counter. She brushed imaginary dust from the grain of the wood and then spun around to face Calcifer. Somehow, now that she was young and had more energy, she constantly found herself spinning rather than simply turning, constantly forcing Michael to dodge her fingertips.

"Keep this quiet, Calcifer," she said, narrowing her eyes at the fire demon. She nonchalantly reached forward and grabbed an empty vase filled with water, awaiting the flowers that would be placed in it, and passed it from hand to hand so the water made sloshing noises. "You may be able to move now, but I'm young and I'm fast, and don't think I wouldn't be able to catch you!"

"Noted," Calcifer said, sounding bolder than he looked in the face of being splashed. "I'll keep quiet about it if you promise to let me stay in the shop whenever I want."

Sophie pondered this for a moment, and decided there were worse things he could have asked for in return. She nodded slowly, fixing Calcifer with her best menacing stare. "Alright, you can stay. But you have to swear to stay out of the sight! You'll drive away customers if they spot you."

"I swear on Howl's heart," Calcifer said rather playfully, moving up to a shelf that nearly touched the ceiling and perching himself amid the blossoms of the bluebells in a vase. "See, I match perfectly."

Sophie nodded slightly. "Don't you go moving around!" she warned him as she moved to the door and flipped the sign to Open. She barely had time to step back before Angela Lennox moved in, the bell tinkling behind her. Dressed in violet linen, she caught sight of Sophie and gasped. Sophie recognized the hat she was wearing.

"Sophie Hatter! It'd be a cold day in hell before I didn't recognize you! Where on Earth did you go for all those months, and where in the world is old Mother Jenkins?" Angela moved over to the counter to stroke the petals of a rose as she watched Sophie eagerly for answers.

"I've been… visiting relatives in Kingsbury!" Sophie lied quickly. "But I came to work here when Mother Jenkins died suddenly. I guess since it used to be the family hat shop, Mr. Jenkins thought I would be a natural employee."

"How sad," Angela crooned in her lightly syrupy voice. "I saw the poor old dear only yesterday. Bless her heart. But I can't help but wonder how Mr. Jenkins knew at all that you used to work here. After all, you'd been gone for _ages_ when be bought the shop! Could it be that he simply fancies you?"

Sophie's first impulse was to blush, and she did it before she could think. She knew it was a horrible thing to do, and would make gossip fly around the town faster than a fly to manure. "Can I wrap that bouquet up for you, Miss Lennox?" she asked in a slightly shaky voice.

"I knew it! I simply knew when I saw you this morning 'I'm looking at the future Mrs. Jenkins!' Oh, how lovely for you, Sophie. Yes, yes, I'll take that bouquet. But oh, you must be so excited!"

Sophie had a strong, sudden urge to crawl into a hole and die. She took the bouquet delicately from its vase an wrapped the assorted stems in a piece of lurid pink paper. This situation was more uncomfortable than she could possibly have imagined, and there was little she could do to repair it now. "Yes, yes… I'm very excited."

Angela took the bouquet from Sophie and dropped a gold coin into her hand. "Thank you for the flowers, Sophie dear. And good luck on the marriage. I expect an invitation to the wedding when you get things all sorted out!" she called as she made her way to the shop's door.

"Of course…" Sophie croaked, leaning against the counter heavily and sighing. She had made a mess of things again, and from the look of it, this could be the biggest mess she had created so far.

What was Howl going to think?


	2. In Which Howl Makes A Grand Reappearance

_Thanks so much for reading this, guys! :3 I'm hoping the story will still be to your liking, and thank you for the kind reviews! I'll do my best to keep you reading XD I didn't expect 5 people to actually read it! :loves:_

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**Chapter Two:   
In Which Howl Makes a Grand Reappearance**

"You and Howl are getting _married_!?" Michael exclaimed the instant Angela exited the shop, the bell tinkling behind her. His eyes were open wide, and if they had not been attached, Sophie wondered if they wouldn't fall right out of his head.

"Of course not," Sophie slammed the vase, which had previously held the bouquet Angela had just bought, down onto the counter. It was a wonder it didn't shatter, and she had to wonder if Howl had placed some kind of enchantment on it earlier. "That was just me opening my mouth without thinking again! And look at this mess I've caused! The whole town is going to think I'm the future Mrs. Jenkins by lunchtime!"

"Howl's never going to stop teasing you for this, you know," Calcifer said, making himself known from the shelf high above. "This is perfect bait from him to poke at you."

"Oh… bother!" Sophie resisted the temptation to curse. Sighing, she dropped her forehead into one hand and then lifted her head, staring at Michael. "Why didn't you stop me, when you saw I was carrying on like an idiot?" she demanded of him. Michael stepped back, holding his hands up in defense.

"I didn't know it wasn't true at the time!" he reminded her, backing away slightly. "Howl doesn't tell me everything, you know!"

"Howl doesn't tell anyone anything," Calcifer pointed out, floating lazily among the bluebells. "That's what makes him Howl, isn't it?"

"Howl, Howl, Howl!" Sophie said, turning and neatening up an already neat flower arrangement. "Do we really have to keep talking about Howl?"

"What about me?" came an amused voice, following the tinkle of the shop's bell. Howl bustled into the shop, filling the air even more heavily with the scent of lilac. He had clearly been shopping, as he was clothed in a new scarlet suit, this one with gold trimmings, and he wore a brightly colored patchwork jacket slung over his shoulders.

"Nothing," Sophie said, not trusting herself to meet his eye. She kept her vision fixed on the petals of a rose, and pretended not to notice when he sauntered up beside her. "Went shopping?"

"That's right," Howl told her, and she could almost see him wink one of those clear green eyes, though she wasn't looking. "You noticed?"

"It's a little hard not to when you're parading around like some kind of overdressed tin soldier, you know," her words had a bite that she didn't really feel, and Howl gave his deepest laugh as he slung an arm around her shoulders.

"The old woman's bitterness doesn't suit that pretty face, Sophie," he said, almost too softly for her to hear, but she did and so she knew he had meant for her to. Blushing was inevitable in this case, and she wondered when she had become such a slave to this particular action. Howl took a lock of her hair gently between his fingers, and slowly she looked up at him, trusting herself a bit more now that she had adjusted to his presence. He was holding her hair up to his, and his too was a bright shade of red this morning, the hints of gold shimmering in the sunlight that streamed in through the full front windows. "See, we match perfectly." It was indeed the exact color of Sophie's.

"I thought you hated your hair when it was red," she reminded him, and his face broke out into a riotous smile.

"I only fear change, you see," he informed her, dropping her hair and kissing her hand in an almost gentlemanly way. "Unless it's my own idea. Honestly Sophie, I'd think you'd know me that well by now. I'm almost insulted!"

"Well, be insulted somewhere else. There's work to be done in this shop," she had gotten into the habit as an old woman of being gruff with him, and she couldn't seem to get out of it now. It sounded strange now that her voice was no longer a gravelly croak.

"Now, now. Don't kick me out of my own shop!" Howl chuckled. "I promise to be a good, dedicated salesman for the rest of the morning if you'll come out from behind that counter and see what I bought you!" with a wave of his hand, the door to the shop swung open with a tinkle and a large stack of parcels flew in one after another, depositing themselves neatly in a stack on the floor. Sophie couldn't help but wonder if they had been floating in the air outside the shop all this time since Howl had entered so he could make a grand gesture with them. Unsure of what to say for a moment, Sophie stared at him quietly, and she could tell that he was pleased by her reaction.

"You didn't need to buy me anything, Howl," she told him finally, finding her voice. His eyes were glittering playfully, and he gave her a little push toward the stack of parcels. Howl's little acts of generosity always turned up at the most random of times, and it made her feel rather odd to accept gifts from him when she had had such a low opinion of him for such a long time.

"Yes I did. I'm very grateful for everything you've done for me, Sophie. It's the least I can do to show my appreciation, isn't it?" he was being guileless for once, and Sophie found it set her off balance. She felt guilty and weary for a moment, realizing that he had been off buying things for her while she was inadvertently convincing one of the loudest girls in Market Chipping that she was his fiancé. The guilt dropped cold and acrid into the pit of her stomach, and for a moment she swore she was going to be sick.

"But… I really don't need all this," she told the wizard, holding up her hands as if to somehow justify her words with movement.

"Don't be so ungrateful, or I just might be forced to take all of them back!" Howl told her, sounding both teasing and indignant. Sighing softly, Sophie moved toward the boxes in the center of the floor. With Howl looking on expectantly, she knelt beside them and took one carefully into her hands, pulling off the ribbon and opening the white box. Inside, she found a pair of delicate white shoes, nothing like the shapeless boots she was wearing that had been stretched out of proportion by her knobby old lady feet in the weeks before. "Open the rest before you thank me," Howl said, his eyes still glittering.

In the series of boxes before her, Sophie found a set of assorted hairbows and pins, three simple sundresses of various colors, three matching shawls, a plum-colored cold weather cloak, lace stockings, a flounced petticoat, and three pairs of darned socks. The clothing was all very finely made, and she could barely stand to think of how much all this had cost. Slowly, she forced herself to look up at Howl, who was beaming with the kind of giddiness that could only be caused by someone feeling very, very pleased with himself.

"Do you like them?" he asked her, and for a moment Sophie was speechless.

"Yes, I do, and thank you," she managed to say. "But… you didn't need to spend this much money on me, surely!"

Howl chuckled. "How would you know how much I spent? And besides, I can't have you still dressing like an old biddy when you're clearly not one. Plus, the sundresses will help in this hot weather. Think of it as me finally being practical!"

"Well… thank you, Howl," Sophie said again, still rather overwhelmed and delicately fingering the soft velvet of the cloak.

"There's still one more," Howl said in a rather revealing voice, pointing delicately behind her to a large box that she was positive had not been there a moment ago. Sophie picked it up rather dubiously and slowly untied the large pink ribbon. As she lifted the lid she was met by the sight of delicate blue tissue paper, and lifted it to reveal the items underneath. Her heart nearly stopped at the sight of the elegant blue gown that met her eyes. It was a pale, baby blue and made of smooth satin. The skirt opened in a wide slit in the center to reveal even paler satin decorated with swirling silver designs. The bodice was cut low and embroidered all over with curlicues and swirls in shimmering silver thread. The sleeves, which were short and looked as though they were meant to hang down below the shoulders, were gathered and pleated, making them look ruffly.

"Howl…" Sophie was not entirely sure what to say, and she looked up at him for a moment, opening and closing her mouth in what she was sure looked like the motions of a desperately unattractive fish. "Thank you… it's lovely. But… where am I ever going to wear anything this elegant?"

"Well, I just thought that perhaps you might find it useful on Thursday evening. There's going to be a ball in Kingsbury to celebrate Prince Justin's return, and it just so happens the king invited me for having a hand in finding both Justin and Benjamin Sullivan. I was hoping you'd agree to come with me… as my guest of honor?" Howl was very convincing as he said this, holding out a pair of matching blue and silver slippers to her as he did.

For several moments, Sophie was both very overwhelmed and very elated. She had always enjoyed beautiful clothing as someone who took joy in making it, and the absolute beauty of the dress as well as the tempting nature of the offer Howl was making went to her head and made her feel very dizzy indeed. She forgot, for the time being, the horrible mess she had made of things. She forgot that, being the eldest of three, there was no way this could work out. She even forgot what a hideously flighty womanizer Howl was. All she could do was nod numbly and thank him again, taking the slippers gently and open her mouth several more times.

"Yes. My answer is yes. I'd love to," she answered simply, still caught up for a moment in the magic of it all and, strangely, in the clear green of Howl's eyes.

"Am I going?" Michael asked rather excitedly, and Howl hung his head in exaggerated melancholy.

"I'm sorry, Michael, but the king only specified that I was allowed to bring one guest," he said in a tone that made it clear he had not tried terribly hard to get Michael invited. "I suppose Sophie and I will have to spend time alone and you'll just have to stay here with Calcifer."

"Figures," Michael muttered sulkily, fetching the broom and brushing away and nonexistent dust. "Well, have a good time then."

"Oh I assure you, we will and then we'll tell you all about it when we get home," Howl told him with a sincerity that Sophie wasn't sure whether to doubt or not. "Now Sophie, why don't you head back to the castle and put your things away? Michael and I will handle the shop."

"Alright…" this seemed like a reasonable idea, and Sophie gathered her garments up, leaving the boxed in a neat stack. "You can wrap flower arrangements up in these, alright, Michael? It'll look nice," kicking open the back door in the workroom and heading for the castle with Calcifer close behind, she couldn't help but smile and wonder why in the world she was so overcome with such a strange sense of floating.


	3. In Which Howl Learns a Piece of Gossip

_Sorry about the shortness of this chapter ^^; I'll try to make it up to you in the next few! So, thank you all so much for the kind reviews! I really appreciate you taking the time to read this story!_

_And on a more random note, the other day I was reading through the novel seeing if there were any details I might need. I ran across the part where Howl got a cold, and I laughed and said "Ha ha, you have a cold, Howl, you silly bastard!" Ten minutes later, I had a cold too. A pretty bad one. So, could it be that fictional characters play a role in karma too? XD

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**Chapter Three:  
In Which Howl Learns a Rather Interesting Piece of Gossip**

"He's being very nice to you, don't you think?" Calcifer asked the instant he and Sophie were out of earshot. Sophie nodded slightly, a tiny wistful smile inadvertently crossing her lips.

"Yes, he is," she agreed, making her way to the cubbyhole under the stairs that served as her bedroom.

"You know, usually he only treats you so kindly when he wants something. Don't tell me you really didn't notice!" Calcifer reminded her, soaring across the kitchen and plunking down into the fireplace. He settled himself comfortably into the grate and then looked up at her expectantly with glowing orange eyes.

"Don't be so cynical, Calcifer!" Sophie said, slightly perturbed that she hadn't remembered this. The last time Howl bought her something, it was because he had wanted her to pose as his mother and blacken his name before the king. Howl rarely did anything without ulterior motives, as she could readily admit, and now she was more than a bit apprehensive. After buying her an entirely new wardrobe and inviting her to a ball, she shuddered to think what he could possibly want. _"Now now Sophie, it doesn't do any good to be cynical yourself!"_ she thought fiercely, shaking the thoughts away and making a small "tsk tsk" sound. "Maybe he's just being nice this time," she told Calcifer.

The fire demon snorted and sneered at her. "And maybe I'm the next heir to the throne," he said, doing something that looked remarkably like rolling his eyes… if eyes made of fire could indeed roll at all.

Sophie sighed and ignored him, trying to keep her mind off of the unfortunate subject that had been brought up as she slipped into her cubbyhole and dropped the next stack of clothing onto her small bed. She then proceeded to fold each item neatly and placed it with her other clothing inside the small chest of drawers. With diligence, she folded every piece of clothing into a neat square and tucked it away, leaving the two pairs of shoes just under the edge of the bed. The glittering blue gown was the last thing she came to, and she could not help but hold it up for a moment, admiring it.

"Goodness, you're a lovely thing," she told the dress. "Never mind who's wearing you… every man in Ingary is going to fall in love with you!" she laughed softly and then folded the dress swiftly, placing it on top of the other items. Miraculously, all of the clothing fit into the rather small top drawer, and Sophie wondered if Howl had had a hand in this. "Oh well, I suppose I'd better start lunch before I head back. Michael's going to be hungry," she said to no one in particular, emerging into the kitchen and fetching some sausages from the cupboard. "Would you bend your head, Calcifer?" she asked the demon politely. There was no use bullying him anymore when he could simply zip up out the chimney if he was bothered.

"I don't see why Howl doesn't just buy a proper stove," Calcifer grumbled as he complied to Sophie's request. "Now that I have better things to do than sit in the grate and cook his meals."

"Oh, quiet, you," Sophie tossed one of the sausages onto the hearth, and Calcifer snatched it up almost instantly, gobbling the meat with lightning speed and then bending his head in silence. Sophie had learned by now that reward, not punishment, was the only way to deal with a fire demon. She hummed softly as she cooked, staring absently into the bathroom at the colorful rows of Howl's beauty spells.

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**XXX**

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"What time is it, Michael?" Howl yawned widely and lifted his head from the countertop, where he had been resting it. Michael, more than a bit miffed at being asked when Howl could have simply looked at the clock himself, checked and then went back to sweeping dust out onto the shop's front step.

"Almost eleven o'clock," he reported dutifully. Howl gave a loud, exaggerated groan and collapsed back onto the counter.

"Only eleven!? How can it possibly still be this early?" the wizard moaned, checking the clock for himself and then sighing in defeat. "We haven't had a customer all morning!"

"We had one," Michael corrected him. He leaned on the broom and gave Howl a long stare. "And no one's coming in now because they know you'll use your charm to swindle them into buying more flowers than they want!"

"Well, it's not as though I can turn my charm off," Howl said, sounding somewhere between pleased and dismayed. "What am I supposed to do!?"

"Well, you could stop trying so hard to force them into buying so many flowers," Michael suggested. Howl sighed in a rather melancholy way, slumping even further over the counter and giving the impression that he was melting. For a brief time, Michael wondered if his master really _was_ melting… his long sleeves trailed limply across the counter, his hair lay in a lank pool around his head, and his features seemed a bit longer than normal.

"Master Howl, are you going to be alright?" asked the teenager, moving over and poking lightly at the redheaded man's shoulder. Howl's head shot up abruptly, and a wide yawn passed through him, shaking the walls of the shop slightly.

"Fine, fine," Howl said, sounding slightly irritated as he waved Michael away with a flick of his hand. "Can't a man take a nap in his own flower shop?"

At that moment, the bell tinkled, fighting off any arguments that might have risen between the two in the heat of boredom. Howl quickly picked himself up and tried to look dignified, tossing the tangles out of his golden-red hair with a quick shake. The man in a dark suit who entered the shop turned his eyes first on Michael, then Howl, and made a small sound of recognition.

"Wizard Howl!" exclaimed Benjamin Sullivan, coming farther into the shop with an air of joy about him. "So this is _your_ flower shop, is it? Well, I must say I'll have to come in here more often!" he gave a deep, pleasant laugh and clapped Howl on the back. Howl, who wasn't expecting it, stumbled slightly. Most of his dignity lost, Howl settled for standing and looking noble as though he had had every intention of stumbling.

"Suliman," he said pleasantly, extending a hand. The wizards shook vigorously and then Suliman withdrew his hand, glancing around the shop with a kind of vague interest that Howl could swear was not feigned. It had only been a few days since Howl had last seen the Wizard Suliman, and in those few days he had cleaned up remarkably. All the dishevelment that had been evident from living as a scarecrow for so long was neatly brushed away, leaving him looking very debonair indeed. For a moment, Howl felt a pang of jealousy.

"Well, I'll have to buy plenty of flowers from you today… I never did get to properly thank you for saving Justin and I at the last moment."

"I was invited to the ball, by what I hear was your request," Howl said with a slight smile. "I think that's thanks enough, don't you?"

"So you're coming, then?" Suliman nodded in approval. "And you'll be bringing young Sophie, I presume?"

"Well yes," slightly taken aback, Howl wondered for a moment if Suliman had some kind of psychic ability, and promptly wiped his mind clean of all thought. No use in letting him hear anything incriminating, was there? "But how did you know I was bringing Sophie? Did you hear from the king?"

Looking puzzled for a moment, Suliman shook his head. "I didn't hear from anyone," he explained, smiling in an almost fatherly way at the younger wizard. "One doesn't really need to hear, does he? After all, it_ is_ only natural for a gentleman to bring his wife-to-be to a ball, isn't it?"


	4. In Which A Falling Out is Inevitable

_I really shouldn't be working on this so much, since I have a deadline of October for my novel XD But oh well, I'll finish both somehow. I have the drive to do it, so I'll do it (I hope)!_

_Thanks again for the reviews, and thanks to those lurkers out there who prefer not to review :3 I really appreciate the support, and it makes me happy that people are reading this! So anyway, I hope I fixed the problem with Michael's OOC-ness (though he doesn't get as much spotlight time in this chapter). If anyone has any more concrit, I'd be happy to hear it!  
_

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**Chapter Four:  
In Which A Falling-Out is Inevitable**

Sophie was nearly finished cooking the sausages when she heard a scuffling sound coming from the broom closet. Howl's ginger-colored head appeared first, followed shortly by the rest of him. She gave him a quick hello, but the wizard didn't answer. He disappeared into the bathroom, closing the door delicately behind him, and from under the frying pan Calcifer gave a muffled sound of realization.

"He knows, Sophie," he warned, though he seemed to be holding back chuckles at the situation. "Can tell he's heard something that disturbs him, because he didn't even bother to remind me to fetch some hot water for the bath. I guess I'll do it anyway, but you have your work cut out for you now. I have a feeling this is going to get awkward."

With a heavy sigh, Sophie removed the pan from Calcifer's head and slid the sausages onto a plate on the table. "He's not going to be out of the bathroom for hours…" she muttered, changing the subject. "These sausages are going to be stone cold by the time he finishes."

"And what are you going to say when he confronts you about it?"

Sophie snorted. "Howl? Confrontation? He's much more likely to sprout an extra pair of legs. But I suppose if he does bring it up, I'll be the one to slither out of it this time."

"How do you plan to do that?" Calcifer asked. Luckily, Michael came in out of the shop at that moment, shaking petals from his jacket.

"It's raining in Market Chipping, and no one's outdoors. Howl said we might as well close down for the afternoon and open back up when the rain stops," the teenager said as though he felt the need to explain his presence. He took a seat at the table and carefully picked up one of the sausages. "Thanks for lunch, Sophie."

"You're welcome, Michael," Sophie answered as she washed the pan in the sink. Calcifer was chuckling from his place amid the logs, and she turned to face him. "And just what's so funny?" she inquired. Calcifer's orange eyes were glimmering in amusement.

"Howl caused that rain," he replied, reaching across the hearth for another log. "It seems like we're all going to be trapped indoors for the rest of the afternoon."

"Why would he make it rain?" more than a bit confused, Sophie took a seat across from Michael and helped herself to a sausage. "It's bad for business."

"He usually does this when he's feeling moody or he wants an excuse to stay home for the day," Michael said helpfully, taking another sausage. "And by the way, he found out about what you said… Wizard Suliman told him. There really wasn't much I could do. Sorry, Sophie."

"My, word does get around fast," Sophie swallowed a bite of sausage and along with it her worry at Howl's potential reaction. "You think that's what's making him moody, or is it just a routine case?"

"Hard to tell," Michael tapped idly on the table with his knuckles. "I wish I knew…" behind them, the bathroom door banged open and Howl flounced out, carrying a smell of gardenias into the kitchen. His hair was fair now, a pale golden blonde. He had only been in the bathroom for ten minutes, but he looked as though he had spent hours sprucing himself up as always. Sophie's stomach tightened slightly.

"I wonder what he thinks of it," she thought, glancing sideways at him. "Does he think it's funny that silly old Sophie has made a mess of things, or does the mention of him even in a nonexistent marriage scare him so much he's not even going to mention it?" both of these seemed like plausible outcomes, though the first seemed more likely of a reaction.

"Sausage. Lovely. Thank you, Sophie," Howl said in rather restrained tones, plunking down into the chair at the end of the table and taking one of the sausages delicately between his fingers. For a moment, silence reigned supreme, the three of them chewing quietly. The only sound in the kitchen was the soft crackling of Calcifer turning logs to cinder. "So…" Howl began. Sophie swallowed heavily, as he seemed to be looking at her.

"So?" she replied in what she hoped was a brave tone, looking up to meet his gaze. There was definite glee in those clear green eyes, and his rather elegant mouth was twitching slightly at the corners.

"So, how is the future Mrs. Jenkins this afternoon?" Sophie could have hit him then for the absolute mirth dripping from every inch of that expression. She seriously considered it for a moment, and then decided it would only make things worse.

"What are you talking about?" Sophie was not generally one to deny things, but the words sprang from her mouth unbidden, and there was nothing she could do about it now.

Howl chuckled. "You know what I'm talking about, Sophie Hatter," he sounded more amused with every word. "You told Angela Lennox that we were going to be married. Now why in the world would you say something like that? Maybe you're in a bit of a hurry to rush things between us?"

"Things between us?" Sophie succeed in keeping the blush from rising onto her cheeks, but there was no time for celebration. "Angela jumped to conclusions and made that assumption on her own! All I'm guilty of is not knowing how to tell her otherwise!"

"Are you sure that's all?" Howl asked her, his expression still amused but now slightly mocking. Sophie cursed him internally… Calcifer had been right, he never was going to stop teasing her about this! "Or could it be that you really do want to become Mrs. Jenkins?"

"Oh, shut up!" Sophie snapped, reaching a breaking point. Her patience had already worn thin from the hectic nature of the day, and Howl had no idea what he was up against. Today was colored with many shades of bad luck, the worst facet of which, of course, seemed to be the inability to control her mouth. "You just don't know when to stop! How could I _ever_ want to marry someone like you, Howl? You're rude and selfish and you have just about the thickest skull of anyone I've ever met! So you go ahead and tell me! How?"

Suddenly, every trace of amusement was gone from Howl's face. He put down the sausage he was holding with care and gave Sophie the coldest look she could ever recall seeing. It chilled her to the bone, and she could feel gooseflesh pricking up on her arms. Howl stood up and grabbed the patchwork coat he had been wearing that morning from the back of the chair, swinging it over his shoulders.

"I'm going out," he announced in a dead kind of voice, moving over to the door and turning the knob black-side down. In a flash, Sophie's stomach filled with regret and she stood up. Howl had already disappeared into the blackness, but Sophie managed to catch the door just before it closed and, with a deep breath, leaped out into the nothing that hung before her. She landed on her feet in Wales on the other side of that eerie black mist and wasted no time in hurrying after Howl, who was already striding across the dew-damp grass.

"Howl, wait!" the wizard ignored her, but Sophie was faster than he was and managed to catch up to him quickly, taking hold of his arm firmly but still rather gently. At the feel of her hands on his arm, Howl stopped and looked at her. His eyes were no longer nearly as cold, but he still had a strange, dead look about him, a hurt glaze over his eyes like a belly-up fish. "Howl, I--"

"Go back to the castle, Sophie," Howl interrupted. Sophie was struck by the thought that she had never seen him quite so affected by anything before. He seemed different at this moment, changed by her words, and she had to bite her lip. The words that she had spoken were so cold and to some level very untrue, and for a moment she found herself wishing foolishly that she could take them back. But wishing did no good, as the eldest of three daughters was certain to know all too well.

"Howl, just wait--"

But Howl did not appear to be in any mood to listen. "I said go back to the castle!" he repeated, and as he turned on her Sophie noticed for the first time that in those blazing green eyes there was an undeniable look of sincere hurt. "If you could never want to marry someone like me, then maybe you shouldn't be following someone like me, either!"

"What does my following you have to do with marriage?" Sophie asked him, slightly confused. But as she began to to speak, Howl had waved his arm and muttered something, and suddenly she found herself in the moving castle's kitchen, saying the words to Michael, who now stood directly in front of her and looked more than a bit bewildered.

"What?" he asked, mouth slightly agape at her sudden appearance.

"No, no. I was talking to Howl, but somehow I ended up back here! What in the world is going on?"

"That was a fairly powerful transportation spell he used," Calcifer chimed in from his comfortable place in the grate. "It takes a huge amount of energy to perform, especially between countries. He really must have wanted to get rid of you to resort to that one."

Sophie didn't even have the strength to glower at him and she sunk slowly into one of the chairs beside the fire. "Oh, what have I done this time, and how am I going to fix it?" she asked herself, though she spoke aloud. "I don't blame him for being a slitherer-outer this time."

"You should probably know that Howl's heart can't take nearly the beating it could before now that I'm not protecting it," Calcifer told her sagely. "He's so used to being impervious to this kind of thing that he's ridiculously fragile at this point. He'll be fine, Sophie. He's probably just in shock because he's finally realized that having a heart means it can be broken. I had a feeling this was going to happen eventually." the fire demon sounded uncharacteristically comforting, and it was enough to soothe Sophie just slightly.

"But... I was so cold to him! Anyone would be hurt by that, fragile heart or not! And he wouldn't let me apologize. Oh, what am I going to do? Howl, did you think I was going to be the first person to wound your heart after you finally got it back?" Sophie sighed heavily and brushed a lock of hair from her face.

"He'll be fine," Calcifer said carelessly, but he had what looked much like an expression of worry on his flickering features and he, Sophie, and Michael spent the rest of the evening in restless silence, glancing frequently at the door.


	5. In Which Howl Rediscovers Heartache

_Whew! Chapter 5! Things are starting to move along now! :excitement: As always, thank you all so much for reading and for encouraging me! You keep me from slipping into procrastination XD_

_So, this chapter is filled with Howl being... Howl (and being stupid). I had to write about Mari... I just had to! She's so adorable, and I think it's cute what a sweet uncle Howl is._

_So, enjoy! Thanks for reading! I'll try to update on Monday if not sooner.  
_

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**Chapter Five:****  
In Which Howl Rediscovers Heartache**

"How could she?" Howl asked himself out loud as he strode purposefully across the grass of his hometown. His strides were aimless and his thoughts heavy, the perfect combination for self-pity to take root. He kicked angrily at the damp grass. "Is that really what she thinks of me? Could it really be?" with this thought, Howl was surprised by the oddly familiar jolt of pain that came surging through his chest, overpowering all else. Eyes widening, he clutched at his chest in panic.

"I'm having a heart attack!" Howl gasped out loud, ready to burst down the nearest cottage door and demand assistance. Before he could, however, his brain suddenly clicked and embarrassment flooded him. "Oh. Oh! It's not a heart attack at all," he said, barely aware that he was still speaking aloud. "It's… a broken heart," with a melancholy sigh, Howl placed both hands over it. "I forgot how damned sensitive you are, old friend. All these years, Calcifer was in charge of you but now... these feelings… even though I have you back, Sophie has control over you. Is it just because she was the one who returned you, or is it because perhaps I…" he recalled the tender sensation that had settled into his chest at the sight of her smile that morning. "…love her?"

It was at that point that Howl realized a small crowd had stopped around him, pausing on their way to their assorted destinations to listen to him talk to himself. It was with some amount of shame he noted that every one of them was someone he had known while growing up. "Well, then," he said conversationally, rocking back on his heels. "I guess I'd better get going. Enjoy your shopping," as he headed off, he was positive he heard someone muttered something about 'screw-loose Howell'.

"No point in letting my coming here go to waste!" he muttered, setting himself on course for Meghan's house. Now that he was in the habit of talking to himself, he couldn't seem to stop. He was beginning to understand why Sophie spent so much time talking to flowers. At the thought of Sophie, another jolt went through his heart, and he sighed. "I'm never going to get used to this."

As his sister's house loomed in front of him like some kind of hideous bird, Howl released a loud sigh. It wasn't that he particularly _wanted_ to deal with Meghan at the moment… or even that he thought he could _handle_ her at the moment. He always seemed to come to Wales when he felt threatened, and there was really nowhere to go beside straight into that house. It was morning here, and the pubs were all closed until noon. He could either stand outside attracting more attention to himself ("Isn't that young Howell? Oh, I should ask him how life abroad is!"), or he could venture into that house. Both were galling options, but he was already at the door, and so he rapped on it sharply before he could think about making a break for it. This was the way Howl was forced to operate; he had to do things without thinking, for if he were to think about them, he would change his mind.

As the door swung open before him, Howl braced himself. However, he was met not by the sight of his formidable sister but by the sight of a trim, dark-haired man who looked both very weary and very thin. "Oh, Howell. Meghan isn't home right now. She took Neil out shopping for dress pants. You can wait in the living room if you'd like. They should be back later in the morning."

"Good morning, Gareth," knowing Meghan's great disdain for her brother, it was rather gratifying to Howl that her husband always treated him civilly. "Actually, I came to see my niece. Is she home?"

"She's up in her room," Gareth stepped back to allow Howl into the foyer and then turned toward the stairs. "Mari, you have a visitor!" he called, and he sounded rather strange when his voice boomed. Compared to Meghan, Gareth was a very timid person, shrinking down in presence when they stood by side. Everything about him was slender and mousy, and for a moment Howl couldn't help but feel sorry for him. It was a wonder he was able to cope with being _married_ to the formidable woman who was, for the moment, blissfully out on the town. "Come down and say hello!"

It took only moments for Mari to appear, and when she did she took the stairs in twos and threes, the ends of her dress constantly threatening to become tangled around her feet. "Uncle Howell!" she barreled straight into his arms as he leaned down for her, and laughed brightly as he picked her up.

"Someone's as lovely as ever this morning!" Howl told her, grinning widely when she giggled. Now that his heart was back in his chest and not far back in the castle, he was stunned by the weight of the paternal affection he felt for the child. Emotion was no longer dulled by distance, and it made everything seem about a thousand times more powerful. "Been bathing in beauty potion again, I see!"

"Uncle Howell, you're weird," Mari told him as he twirled her around and then put her down.

"Doesn't that make you weird too?" Howl asked fondly. "Since we're family?"

"Well, I don't know about that," Mari took several of his fingers into her small hand. "But I'm having a tea party upstairs. Do you want to come?"

"I would be honored," as Howl allowed himself to be led upstairs, he hoped faintly that Meghan would not return home before he left. He was did not think he had the strength to deal with her at the moment, and he might well turn to dust under her disapproving stare. Up in Mari's small bedroom, he was led to a table draped with a pastel piece of cloth with stuffed animals arranged around it. Plastic teacups and saucers were placed in front of each of the animals.

"You can have Llewelyn's spot," Mari said, pushing the stuffed bear to one side. She very abruptly became hostess-like and clasped her hands. "Do sit down," she told him politely. "After we finish tea, we can play tag in the yard."

"But we're so underdressed for a tea party!" Howl told her, and with a wave of his arm he put himself in an elaborate suit and transformed Mari's simple dress into an elegant, glittering pink one. "There we go!"

Mari giggled, delighted, and as Howl sat down in his chair (between a stuffed tiger and flamingo) and sipped demurely at the plastic cup of tea, he became aware of her watching him from across the table.

"You seem sad, Uncle Howell," she told him matter-of-factly. "What's the matter?"

"Nothing is the matter," Howl replied, lying through his teeth. "Nothing at all! I'm having a perfectly lovely morning."

"I think you're not telling the truth," Mari argued, and for the thousandth time he was surprised at the level of perceptiveness she had for a child. "I think something is wrong."

"And what do you think is wrong?" Howl asked, feeling rather comical as he sipped the tea from his tiny cup. He was sure he looked terribly oversized sitting in the petite toy chair, his long fingers wrapped around the delicate handle of his teacup.

Mari pondered for a moment, taking a drink of her own tea and watching him intently. "I think it's a lady."

**XXX**

Howl had not returned by dinnertime, and Sophie became restless. The guilt ate away at her insides until she was certain there was nothing left but a large empty crevice where they had been. She paced in front of the fireplace until Calcifer became irritated.

"Oh, stop pacing!" he said finally. "Every time you go by the air hits me, and it's starting to make me sore. Howl will be back later! Don't worry so much. You know as well as I do that he does this all the time." he sighed. "I'm enjoying being able to move around, but still sometimes being in this state makes me feel so vulnerable!"

"Then talk to Howl about it when he gets back," Sophie suggested, and at the mention of his name her stomach turned to guilty knots all over again. "I'm sure there's _something_ he can do about it. He's a wizard, after all."

"It couldn't hurt," Calcifer admitted, and Sophie left him muttering excitedly to himself and started absently up the stairs. She rarely ventured up them except to clean, and she was always fascinated by the strange atmosphere, by the colorful and odd paintings hanging on the walls. She had originally intended to go to Michael's room and ask him if he felt like dinner, but she found herself moving past the door to Michael's room and to the room further down. The door was slightly ajar, and Sophie couldn't stop herself from pushing it carefully open and stepping into Howl's chambers.

The room looked completely different from how she remembered it. The bed and dresser were in the same position, the strange, brightly colored objects and books still lined the shelves, and the multicolored braided rug still sat in the middle of the floor. There was, however, an enormous difference from last time she had been inside this room; it was clean.

Every speck of dust was removed from the bedspread, revealing a bright, swirled pattern on cream satin. The books and contraptions on the shelves had been dusted, the floor swept, and even the walls scrubbed. She knew for a fact that she herself had not dared to clean the room, and this left only one option: Howl had done it himself. Astonished, she moved over to the window. Outside, the view of Howl's sister's yard was spectacular. It was late morning, and sunlight beamed down onto the grass, the trees, the swing set.

In the center of the yard, she caught sight of Howl. He was holding his niece on his shoulders and running in circles, and they were both laughing happily. For a moment, Sophie was transfixed on that image of Howl, his blonde hair flying behind him and his expression completely carefree. As she watched his sunny face, she felt a strong tug on her heart.

As bad as she felt, she was certain the sensation had nothing to do with guilt.


	6. In Which Sophie Turns the Tables

_I meant to update yesterday, but my internet connection can be very unreliable. It's always dying when I need it most. DX :dreads taking classes online next year because of this:_

_So, at the moment I'm not really sure how to fill a few chapters before the ball. Suggestions, anyone? :3_ _They would be greatly appreciated._

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**Chapter Six:****  
In Which Howl Behaves Like an Infant and Sophie Turns the Tables**

By the time Howl finally got back to the castle, Sophie had fallen into a kind of half-sleep in front of the fireplace. Calcifer had been keeping her entertained with tales from his days as a star, and the last thing she recalled when she was conscious was an epic tale wherein Calcifer and his brother had been forced to avoid a meteor shower when the meteors got a touch too cocky and decided it was time to invade the stars' area of the sky. The next thing she was aware of was the sound of the door opening and Howl coming in, his hair wet from rain that she presumed was now coming down in Wales. The wizard walked into the kitchen and removed his wet jacket before proceeding to wring out locks of his hair.

For a moment he didn't seem to see Sophie, and she watched him intently. With the water glistening on his damp skin he gave the impression that he was glowing, and Sophie's heart gave several hard, lurching beats at the way his green eyes slid closed in a look of peaceful joy at being home and out of the rain. She had known him for quite some time now and she had noticed right from the beginning that he was attractive (it was painfully hard to miss), but now she had to wonder why it had taken so long to notice these little details. There was the fiery pink glow to his cheeks, the defined lines of his face, the lean strength in his shoulders and what she could see of his chest. Her heart was still hammering in that strange way, and when Howl looked over at her, she wondered if maybe he had actually heard it.

"Evening, Howl," she said to him, smiling in a slightly forced way as the guilt found its way back into her, replacing the strange awe at his tiny but exquisite details. Howl looked at her for a moment. He didn't glare, he didn't smile, and he didn't speak. He simply looked, and when he was finished looking he turned away without answering her and headed for the stairs. Sophie stood quickly before he could evade her. With the guilt gnawing at her stomach, she shouted out to him with far more intensity than necessary. "Howl! I--"

"Don't bother," Howl interrupted her with little emotion in his tone. "I suppose I can't really blame you, anyway," and with that he was on the stairs and hurrying up to his room, obviously still not in the mood to listen to anything she had to say. Sophie cursed his stubbornness.

"Howl, please just listen to me!"

Howl paused for a moment. "No," he replied in a voice that made him sound more like a stubborn teenager than a 27-year-old wizard. "I wont listen because I'm rude and selfish and thick-skulled, right?"

God, he was frustrating. Sophie could have slapped him right then and enjoyed it. "I didn't mean a word of it, Howl!" Sophie insisted, but he was already headed in the direction of his miraculously clean bedroom.

"Goodnight," he snapped, slamming the door behind him.

"Impossible, isn't he?" Calcifer asked. He had been dozing among the embers, but Howl and Sophie's tirade had apparently awakened him.

"Ugh, yes!" Sophie groaned, sinking back into her chair. "I've never met someone quite as impossible as he is! How in the world did he get this way?" on the verge of pulling her hair out, Sophie slid to the floor and sat down on the hearth before Calcifer, who was blazing cheerily away and lighting up the room with his eerie blue glow.

"There is, of course, always the option of cornering him," the fire demon suggested. "I'm sure there's a way you could back him into a corner and force him to listen to you. Trapping him completely is really the only way to make him listen to anything."

"I'm sure he'd find some way to slither out," Sophie sighed so heavily that Calcifer flickered. "Honestly, I'm almost getting to the point where I could just forget about the whole thing and not care if he knows I'm sorry or not. Has he always been this impossible?"

"As long as I've known him," Calcifer reached for another log. "He's like a child when it comes to this kind of thing. It takes more patience than I have, I know that much."

"Oh well..." Sophie pulled her legs up against her chest and scooted closer to the warmth radiating from Calcifer. "I'm sure things will look better in the morning."

**XXX**

Things did not, however, look much better in the morning. When Sophie got up, she put on one of the sundresses Howl had bought her to show him just how grateful for them she was. It was a pale yellow, and the airy fabric made her feel even more summery than the day before as she walked out into the bright morning sun to gather flowers for the shop. She fully expected to see Howl out among the blossoms, but once again he was absent. Her heart gave a sad little flop at this fact, and she sighed. Recently Howl seemed to have quite a large say in what her heart chose to do, and it was more than a bit disconcerting. She tried to ignore this thought and gently caressed the petals of a nearby daisy.

"Howl didn't come out of his room," Michael reported as he emerged with his tub (he always seemed to be a little later than Sophie). Sophie was grateful that she didn't have to ask, and they gathered blossoms in silence. Today Sophie felt like picking wide, white gardenias and delicate violets, which she envisioned arranging together in bouquets. Michael plucked bright red and yellow tulips and multicolored hyacinths. Calcifer surveyed their progress from the air above them, floating lazily about in the morning breeze. All in all, it was an absolutely lovely morning. Sophie, however, could not really enjoy it. She was far too miffed about Howl's behavior.

"Why won't he even let me apologize?" she asked, dropping a clump of gardenias rather forcefully into Michael's tub. Calcifer zoomed to the left to avoid the splash of water.

"Because that's the way he _is_, Sophie. He's as thick-skulled as a mule and ten times as stubborn. Don't let it get to you," Calcifer's words rung true, and Sophie tried not to let Howl get to her. She really did. But somehow, he refused to leave her thoughts all morning and stayed put when she and Michael went to open the shop for the day.

"Have a lovely day," she told a young couple as they exited the shop, the woman smiling and holding the flowers her lover had just purchased for her. Sophie found herself staring after them with a kind of abstract longing, wondering how in the world, for those two, having romantic feelings seemed to be so simple. "Damn you, Howl," she muttered, and tried not to become cross. Michael seemed to sense it, and busied himself arranging bouquets in the corner of the shop furthest from her.

When Howl finally showed up for work it was nearly noon, and Sophie had worked herself into quite a foul mood. Calcifer, who had been drifting silently through the air all morning and darting out of sight whenever a customer came in, was the first to notice him.

"Look out, Sophie," the fire demon muttered, and Howl frowned. Sophie glanced at him briefly, giving him a rather patronizing look, and then went back to her inventorying. She had spent the last hour working this out, and the truth was very clear; if Howl was going to act like a child and avoid all of her attempts to apologize, it would be much better just ignore him altogether. It didn't matter that this morning he was clothed in brilliant violet and smelled of plumeria, or that his hair was glowing in a rather unearthly but attractive way. She ignored him all the same.

Sophie could tell that Howl was more than a bit distressed by this new silent treatment. He loved attention, and failing to get it altogether was probably something truly horrible to him… and something relatively new. She watched the wizard out of the corner of her eye as he moved along rows and rows of flowers, fluffing the petals absently and pretending he had something of importance to do.

"Morning, Michael," Howl said pleasantly, and Michael, wound up from all the tension Sophie had caused in the room, jumped slightly. She would have laughed had she not felt so sorry for the teenager, being hit with the brunt of Howl's awkward conversation.

"Good morning, Howl," Michael said, calming visibly. Over the apprentice's shoulder, Sophie could feel Howl's eyes burning into her like hot embers, and she avoided them. She could sense that something was ready to snap deep inside of Howl at this treatment, and though it was a very dangerous prospect, she enjoyed being the one to snub him for once. He was now engaged in an idle conversation with the hapless Michael, but he threw her despairing glances now and then. She could tell that, had he not been so horribly stubborn, he would have broken down and asked her why in the world she was giving him the cold shoulder.

It was a strange thing, to feel this sudden sense of power over him. Sophie was relieved knowing that all that she needed to do now was wait. It felt somehow that the tables had turned, and it was refreshing knowing that now, he would have to be the one to make an effort if he wanted this pointless tiff to end.


	7. In Which Two Confrontations Take Place

_Woo! X3 I meant to update sooner, but I got a little stuck on this chapter for a bit. Let me know if there are any problems with it! Also, I've been working on some of my gay literature, since I finally found a place (Verb Noir) that's focused on publishing such works. So, YAY!  
_

_By the way, this is primarily a Howl x Sophie story, but are there any other couples anyone would like to see in it (it doesn't matter if they're random XD)?  
_

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**Chapter Seven:****  
In Which Two Confrontations Take Place  
**

Sophie had begun her new tactic on Tuesday, and by Wednesday, neither she nor Howl had relented. Sophie kept up her charade of not even noticing him, and Howl, though he would look at her helplessly now and then, was doing a brilliant job of pretending she didn't exist. Though he had to admit it was far more pleasant than Howl glowering at Sophie constantly, Calcifer's patience was beginning to wear thin. The sense of tension in the castle was suffocating. Sometime in the morning, during the endless expanse of silence that was breakfast, he had had just about enough.

"Howl, apologize to Sophie already," he said finally, lifting himself from the grate and hovering somewhere over the wizard's left ear. Howl took a bite of his eggs and pretended not to hear him. "Howl! Hey, you! The one who obviously has cotton in his ears!"

"Calcifer, how in the world do you expect me to apologize to her when she won't even acknowledge me?" Howl moaned, looking a bit wounded. Calcifer groaned, and for a moment wished he had arms so he could pummel his infantile companion over the head.

"At least try, would you?" Calcifer grumbled. Michael took a large bite of his bacon and chewed, awkward and silent. It was obvious to Calcifer that he was only stuffing his mouth so he wouldn't be expected to contribute to the conversation. "This tension is driving me crazy!"

"Then maybe you should apologize for me, since I'm too rude and selfish and thick-skulled to do it myself, aren't I?" Howl asked. With a tiny poof of a sigh, Sophie abruptly stood up from her chair. There was a sense of fire about her, and for a moment even Calcifer worried about getting burned.

"I'm going to the shop, Calcifer," she told him, and then glanced at Michael. "Will you help me open up?"

"Of course!" the relief on Michael's face was evident, and he stood so quickly that he jostled the table up a few inches and sent his remaining bacon and eggs flying into the air straight for Calcifer and Howl. The fire demon avoided the edible projectile with a sideways jerk, and the food miraculously dropped straight to the tabletop just as it was about hit Howl in the face.

"Have fun, Michael," Howl said, refusing to look Sophie in the face. Calcifer could have sworn she acknowledged Howl long enough to glare at him before she stepped swiftly into the broom cupboard and disappeared, Michael at her heels.

"Very mature," Calcifer snapped as soon as they were gone, and Howl pretended to be very interested in his perfect fingernails. "What was that?"

"Well, if she's going to ignore me, then I'm going to ignore her, too," was the blonde's simple answer. For a moment, Calcifer had sit very still to resist the impulse to reach out a tendril of fire and do his best to strangle him. "So, how have things been, old friend?" Howl was a master of changing the subject, and Calcifer frequently hated it. It did, however, make it easier to exploit his powers at times.

"Well, you're free to do what you want… I just wish you'd end it already!" the fire demon flared electric blue for a moment and the calmed himself. "Speaking of freedom… I _have_ been enjoying the freedom that I have, but I've been feeling a bit… restrained."

Howl, now that the conversation had turned away from the subject he disliked, was more than happy to participate. "Restrained? And what would you have _me_ do about that, Calcifer?" a glimmer of amusement crossed his lips at this.

"Well, the Witch gave her fire demon a human form," Calcifer put it as bluntly as he could, and Howl chuckled. He was in much better spirits now that he was away from his fight with Sophie for the moment, and Calcifer was glad he had waited until she was out of the room.

"And you think I could do the same?"

"Well, naturally," when dealing with Howl, flattery was the best policy, though he refused to pile it on as much as needed. "You have the necessary power, after all."

"Your confidence in me is heartwarming," Howl gave a swift, almost professional nod. "But you see, the problem is, I don't have the necessary _spell_…" he paused for a moment, staring off into space for such a long time that his green eyes began to glass over. Calcifer was beginning to wonder if he had died of a sudden heart attack when suddenly his eyes snapped back up to fix themselves on the fire demon. "I'll tell you what, Calcifer… the Witch obviously had the spell. If you were to go to her old lair and find that spell, I'd be more than happy to try my hand at it. Bring the others if you want. They'll help you."

"And you won't?" Calcifer had to hold back an irritated chuckle. Typical.

"Well, naturally I have very important matters to attend to," Howl responded, and Calcifer coughed loudly.

"Fine, it's a deal…"

**XXX**

"Sophie, are you alright?" there was a look of war on her face, and Michael, though he knew it was not directed toward him, was afraid to venture to near to her.

"I'm fine…" the redhead brushed a lock of hair from her face in a stressed, compulsive gesture, and slumped against the shop's counter. "I just… I wish he wasn't so… ugh!"

"I know," Michael nodded sympathetically. Howl had always been difficult to deal with, and he felt untold compassion for Sophie in this situation. He himself had been dealing with the wizard for years and had become extremely experienced with tolerating him when he was behaving badly, but Sophie had not known him for nearly as long and had not built up the immunity to his sometimes irrational behavior. It was a rather unfortunate situation. "He can be a bit much sometimes."

"A bit much? That's an understatement!" Sophie was seething, and it seemed she had worked herself into a rage again, just as she had the day before. Michael was beginning to think that perhaps if this fight didn't end soon, Howl was going to end up with broken bones. "He's just so… I didn't mean a word of what I said to him to start this, but now I'm starting to think maybe it's all true! He's just so impossible!"

"Maybe you should apologize?" Michael asked timidly, shrinking back. He was grateful that the counter stood between he and Sophie.

"I already tried that! I just cuts me off or ignores me. It's as if he has absolutely no desire to end the fight at all!" with a heavy sigh, Sophie rested her head in her hands. "I just wish he would stop acting like this! I know I'm being stubborn as well, but… he's just so infuriating that it's easier just to ignore him."

"Well, it's better than beating him within an inch of his life, at least."

"What?"

"Nothing," Michael made himself as small as possible for a moment, and Sophie seemed to drop the matter. With a sigh of relief, Michael grabbed the broom and began sweeping the already clean floor. He was about halfway finished sweeping half the length of the shop when the door tinkled cheerily, and a floral-scented figure burst in.

"Sophie!" Lettie Hatter stood with her hands on her hips in the center of the shop. Though she was wearing a soft pink dress and her dark hair was worked into delicate curls, she was wearing a rather formidable expression, and it was enough for her to look impressive. Michael wished for a moment that it was Martha instead, but such idle thoughts were shaken from his mind when he recalled the accusing way Sophie's name had just been spoken.

"Lettie!" Sophie was obviously surprised, and her anger seemed to drain away at the mere sight of her sister, but her face instantly became worried at the girl's tone. "What's wrong?" she slipped out from behind the counter and came to stand before her sister.

"I heard all about it, Sophie, and I must say… what in the world were you thinking when you agreed?"

"Agreed to what?" Sophie was looking more confused by the second, and Michael found himself feeling sorry for her again. Lettie had a rather dangerous and concerned sisterly look on her face.

"To marrying that Howl! Sophie, you know he tried to court me, so I know him quite well… and you should definitely stay away from him! Angela Lennox told me all about it, and honestly, I don't approve! Martha is horrified as well, but the Cesari's wouldn't let her out today. Wednesdays are busy, apparently. But, back to more important matters… have you gone mad?"

"No, of course not!" Sophie gave a small laugh and shook her head, her hair nearly whipping Michael in the face. "Angela Lennox was mistaken… I'm not marrying Howl! Why in the world would I do that?"

Lettie let out a loud puff of air as relief overcame her features. "Thank goodness!" the girl embraced her sister. "I was worried it was true! Because romantically, Howl is definitely one to stay away from…"

"Of course," Sophie replied, embracing her sister back. Sophie's tone sounded so certain, but Michael was sure he caught a glimmer of something quite different in her eyes.


	8. In Which A Spell Is Found

_Sorry about the long wait :sweats: I really have been working... just not on this. I've been trying to finish my first novel. So, I'm sorry if updates remain slow. I vow to finish this story, though! Please don't give up on me!_

_Well, enjoy chapter 8. I'm sorry if this one seems a bit irrelevant. I just really wanted to write about it, for some reason. I seem to always get Calcifer out of character, and so I apologize in advance.  
_

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**Chapter Eight:****  
In Which a Spell Is Found**

With Howl left in charge of the shop for the afternoon, Sophie was more than a bit apprehensive as she set out into the Wastes with Michael and Calcifer. Although the breeze that whipped across the land was warm, she made sure to tuck a shawl around her sundress. _"It never hurts to be safe," _she reminded herself. One could never really be sure what the weather in the Wastes was going to do. Even with the Witch gone, it was a terribly unpredictable place.

"It's a nice morning," Michael commented as they tromped through the thigh-high heather, the sun beating down on their backs. With the seven league boots stowed away in a sack he carried over his shoulder, Michael raised his hand to his eyes and scanned the horizon.

"Nice and windy," Calcifer complained, but his tone betrayed his excitement. "You have the boots, don't you? I can get there in good time, but I'm not sure about you two."

"I have them," Michael drew the shapeless brown seven league boots from his bag as they moved farther out into the heather. "The Witch's old lair is West from here, right?"

"North," Calcifer bobbed up and down on the air's current, looking like a large drifting bluebell. In the quiet apprehension of the morning, he seemed to glow brighter than usual, the only hint that he was excited. Michael nodded in acknowledgement and set one of the seven league boots on the ground before him before handing the other to Sophie.

"Do you remember how to use them?" he asked, and Sophie nodded, recalling the mad whirlwind of motion from a few days before. Slowly, she set the boot in the heather before her and slipped her foot inside, shoe and all. The cavernous, shapeless interior allowed for more wiggling room now that her foot was not the knobby club of an elderly woman, and for a moment worry of the boot falling off spiked through her mind.

"Don't worry," Calcifer said as though he could read her mind. "When you're moving, those boots stay on like you wouldn't believe. Howl tried to stop in mid-journey at one point, and you should have _heard_ some of the words he said when he couldn't get the boot off."

Feeling slightly comforted, Sophie adjusted her boot to make sure it was facing completely north, taking care not to lift it, lest she start off on her own. Michael wiggled his foot into his own boot and made a face. "This one's wet inside," he said with a grimace before peering off into the distance. "Ready, Sophie?"

"As ready as I'll ever be," she replied, finding that now that she was young again, fear found its way far more readily into her. Being old, she had been comforted in knowing that she had little to lose. It was different now, and sweat beaded finely on her forehead as she stared off in the general direction if the Witch's old lair.

"Okay!" Michael tensed his leg. "Get ready, get set… go!"

Simultaneously, Sophie and Michael moved their boots forward one step, and suddenly the landscape was a heather-colored blur around her. This time the wrinkles were not there on Sophie's face for the wind to fold back, but the wind was just as intense. It whipped her hair back and pressing into her eyes until they sent trails of tears sideways across her temples. She was dimly aware of Calcifer zooming along beside her, obviously enjoying the rush of traveling so fast. The sky was little more than a powder blue smudge all around her, and all of a sudden everything stopped.

She and Calcifer had moved out of the softer, heathery part of the Wastes and now stood before the formidable (if a little unattractive) castle that had formerly belonged to the Witch. Of… if one could really call it a castle, Sophie mused. It was just as knobby as before, and where its foundation met the ground was indistinguishable, as it was formed of the same gritty yellow dirt as the expanse of the Wastes all around her. The thousands of pots that made up the walls teetered dangerously now that the powers of a fire demon were not keeping them stable. Sophie stored this information away to tell Michael when he arrived.

"What a mess," Calcifer whistled. "This was a fire demon's work, alright. Not a very good one, though," he said this with a certain amount of pride, at which Sophie smiled. She wiggled her foot out of the boot carefully to avoid being sent off farther.

"Yes, I agree that you're much better," she told him, trying to ignore the stifling heat. This far out in the Wastes, the sea breeze which still touched the edges gently was entirely absent. It wasn't as boiling hot as it had been the week before, and Sophie couldn't help wondering if perhaps it was cooling down on account of the Witch being destroyed. The sense of terror and dryness of the Wastes had mostly dissipated with her.

There was a blurry whoosh to Sophie's left, and Michael appeared, panting. "I must have taken a wrong turn somehow," he said between gasps. He kicked off the boot with some disdain and tucked it and Sophie's into the bag he still carried over his shoulder. "Wow, this place… um…" he couldn't seem to find words and wiped some sweat from his forehead instead of finishing.

"Let's get this over with," Sophie suggested, moving boldly toward the massive lump of architecture before them. The doorway was different from how she remembered, no longer with the deceptive black-side-down quality to it but a normal doorway, devoid of green flame. Michael made a soft choking noise and rushed after her. Sophie was grateful for Calcifer's presence, as he lit the walls with a cheery blue light, much better than that of the green flames that had provided it previously. Now that the fortress was no longer inhabited by the Witch, it was just a building, and no longer formidable. With a sense of blind determination, Sophie moved among chimney-pot pillars that looked dangerously close to collapsing.

"I don't like this place," Michael informed her nervously, peering ahead in the faint blue light. "Do you know where we're going, Sophie?"

"No," she admitted, focusing on the coolness of the air, a blessing after the sweltering heat of the Wastes, rather than her lack of direction. "But this place isn't as large as it seems from the outside, just like the Castle. It shouldn't be much of a chore of find where the old Witch kept her spells."

"You sound confident for someone trudging through ruins with no direction in mind," Calcifer told Sophie, and she hissed at him playfully and stepped over a pile of rubble.

"If I remember correctly, the central chamber should be right ahead," Sophie assured her companions. "It shouldn't be too hard to find what we're looking for from there. Calcifer, why don't you go a bit ahead and give us a little light?"

"Sure, sure," Calcifer could not conceal the glimmer of excitement that rippled through him, and with a look of feigned annoyance he zoomed ahead, illuminating the pillars and gritty walls around them. It didn't take long before the pillars became farther and farther apart until the large gap in them appeared, engulfing them. The absence of pillars was a welcome sight after such monotonous scenery, and Michael actually gave a small whoop of excitement, which he disguised behind a cough.

"So, where to now, Sophie?" he asked, coughing again, and Sophie glanced around.

"Hold on, Michael. Calficer, would you move a bit in that direction?" Sophie asked, pointing toward a blurry, smooth space at the left side of the central chamber. Calcifer obliged her, bringing a large, weathered door into view. It looked oddly out of place in the sandy domain, as it was made of what looked to be rather solid wood. "_That _looks promising. Shall we?"

"Sure…" Michael followed her in its direction. He seemed to be a bit apprehensive, but Sophie did not share his fear. She had been here once before when the Witch still inhabited its walls, and with her gone, there was little to be afraid of. There was nothing to do but trudge steadfastly onward up to the door and turn its inappropriately large brass handle. It was with a heavy creak that the slab of wood moved beneath her hands, and Sophie took a deep breath and stepped into the dark chamber within, standing still until she had Calcifer to light its dark expanse.

"Well, it seems we've found what we're looking for," the fire demon, and as Sophie stared around the walls, she had to agree. The room looked like something one would find in a place inhabited by Howl; the circular interior walls were covered in shelves, which were laden with heavy, dusty books and strange, whirring instruments. There was round desk in the center, which was covered in still more books in shorter stacks. It was similar to Howl's domain, other than the fact that it was far more orderly.

"How are we going to find one spell in all this?" Michael was the first to voice the question that was on all of their minds, and for a moment they all simply stared at the rows and rows of books that reached all the way to the ceiling. It was no good to have come this far and simply have to go home empty-handed, and so Sophie thought long and hard for a moment.

"It's simple! Miss Angorian made her appearance not long ago," she said finally, snapping her fingers. "So the book with the spell we're looking for is probably still on the desk, or in the very least it will be relatively free of dust!"

"Good thinking," Michael praised, and almost as one the three of them rushed to the desk and began to hunt through the books there, searching for those with recent signs of use. It was only seconds before Sophie felt an obsessive need to grab hold of one particularly heavy, red-leather-bound volume with fingerprints in the dust that coated the cover. Inside, a large feather wedged into the book marked a page whose header read 'Personification Spell'.

"Could this be it?" she asked, and Michael leaned over and made a noise of excitement. "It says 'to give real and solid form'. I think this is it, Sophie!" other than the spell's name and description, it seemed to be written in some unrecognizable foreign language. Sophie squinted at its words, but could make no sense of them.

"This looks like it's it, but what does it mean? If we're lucky, Howl will be able to read it," she said, watching Michael slip the book into his bag with the boots. "Oh well… if it's not the right one, I suppose we can always come back."

"I'm not coming back here without Howl," Michael said with a shudder. "This place looks like it could come down at any moment, and none of us knows how to use a transport spell!"

"Quiet, you," Sophie scolded him. "If you keep talking about it, you're going to jinx us!" the truth was, however, that she had just been thinking the same thing. As irritated as she was with the wizard, she would feel infinitely more secure with him here. This was a fact that made her want to kick herself.

"We have the book, so let's get going," Calcifer cut in over their banter. Sophie could tell how anxious he was to get home and try out the spell. She had to admit she was rather exited to see how it would turn out herself, but as the three of them exited the Witch's former lair, she could not shake the feeling that something was amiss.


End file.
